


Crack

by legolastariel



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolastariel/pseuds/legolastariel
Summary: First person POV. Rick is comparing his and Daryl's love to ... an egg.   They say, it’s impossible to squish an egg with your bare hand. No matter how delicate and fragile it is – it will withstand any pressure that is applied to it, as long as the shell is intact. Just like our love.We had a quarrel last night. Does the perfect shell of our love, that used to be so strong, have cracks now?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A little thang, written as a cute little one-shot after breakfast yesterday (had an egg ...) and in between writing longer stuff.  
> Hope you like it.

Crack 

 

I look at the perfectly shaped, oval object in my hand, that feels so smooth and light on my palm. I eye it closely for the very first time in my life. It’s an egg, no more, no less. A simple, uncooked egg, that some stupid bird has pressed out of its backside – that thought actually has me shudder for a second – and yet it’s perfect. 

They say, it’s impossible to squish an egg with your bare hand. No matter how delicate and fragile it is – it will withstand any pressure that is applied to it, as long as the shell is intact. 

_Just like our love._

That thought has flashed through my mind suddenly and has my heart grow heavy.  
We had a quarrel last night. The first quarrel we ever had. We may think differently about matters at times, but usually you let me have my way nevertheless. You will tell me, that you disagree – if you ever do – but in the end it’s my call. No exceptions.  
This time you didn’t let it pass. This time I screwed up big time and carried matters too far for you to keep your mouth shut. But I wouldn’t listen.  
Why did I Iet it come to this? How many times does Fate have to kick me in the teeth and put me in my place, to stop being so damn arrogant?  
You were _right_ about what you said. I know, you were. And most times, I listen to you, appreciate your judgement and opinion. _Most_ times, but unfortunately not all.  
You are my conscience, my better half and I’m blessed to have you by my side. I’m totally aware of that. And of the fact, that I’d be lost without you. That I could never make it on my own, much that my conceited ego wants to tell me differently at times. Why do I keep hurting you? 

We are meant for each other, there is no doubt on my mind. And because of that we _deserve_ each other, too. One way or the other. 

I let my index finger run over the egg almost tenderly. It’s actually beautiful, if you look at it closely. Far too precious to be mindlessly destroyed. And yet, just a little crack in the perfect shell would be sufficient to destroy it easily, to shatter it into dozens of pieces and make hell of a mess.

There’s a movement behind me and in the next second you appear at my side, wordlessly. I feel your warmth radiate and hear your breathing, but I don’t dare even look at you. For a moment we stand quietly next to each other, then you clear your throat. 

“Yer gonna paint a face on that egg, give it a name and adopt it, or yer gonna cook it some time today so we can have breakfast?” 

This silly question actually raises a smile on my face. 

“It reminds me of you.”

“Huh?!” _Oops, that came out wrong somehow …_ “So ya think, I’m an egghead. That what yer tryin’ ta tell me here?”

I turn around and look into your eyes. You are still angry, I can tell. Does the perfect shell of our love, that used to be so strong, have cracks now? How much pressure is it still able to withstand?

“Look at it.” I hold the egg between thumb and index finger and raise my hand. “It’s perfect. It’s actually beautiful and far stronger than one would have thought. It can withstand an immense pressure, as long as the shell is not cracked.”

I gently reach for your hand and place the egg in your palm, before I lower my eyes.

“Do we have cracks, Daryl? Or are we still …”

“Perfect eggheads?” 

I hear the amusement in your inflection, although you hide it behind the deadpan, that you have perfected over the years. But even the light teasing isn’t able to lighten my mood. Are you making fun of me now?

“I love yer metaphors,” you whisper to me. “And I love _you_ , jackass.”

In the next second your arms are around me and we hug each other tight. We stand like that for a long time, savouring each other’s closeness and the quarrel is completely forgotten. Smiling, I finally pull back and look at the egg in your hand, before I carefully lift it off your palm and place it into an eggcup.

“Let’s keep it. To always remind us … you know … that even the strongest _thing_ can be destroyed due to a minor crack.” 

I peck your lips and run the back of my hand tenderly over your cheek. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Nice thought, Rick, but it’s an uncooked egg – ‘s gonna stink after a while.”

I can’t help the evil grin, that creeps onto my face.

“It’s gonna remind us of you even more then.”

Laughing I take off, totally expecting you to take up pursuit, which I hear you do a second later, while a volley of swearwords hit me from behind. I know, you don’t really mean them. Just like _you_ know, that I will let you catch me, upstairs, in our bedroom, so you can give me a proper punishment … 

 

The End


End file.
